Let me let you in, reader, on a little secret. I'm not really a vegan. I'm just a couple of weeks away from being a meat-eating, cheese-loving, Pepsi-swigging, omnivore just like most of the American population. Well, except for the Pepsi thing. I'm sure that a lot of people prefer Coke. Or Dr. Pepper. Or beer. If I were forced to guess, I would imagine that fresh fruits and vegetables made up less than 15% of my average diet. That's being generous.
And, I was generally okay like this though I am overweight, have high cholesterol, am bordering on high blood pressure, suffer from clinical depression and an anxiety disorder. Wow. That is quite a long list of crap that is wrong with me once I see it in writing. However, I blamed most, if not all, of this on genetics. It had to be bad genes. I figured that I didn't eat that badly. (Denial.) Or that I would straighten up and eat healthier later. Or that the second coming of Jesus would happen during my lifetime and none of that stuff would matter anyway. (Not likely, but I'm still hopeful.)
And so my life carried on in a whirl of double cheeseburgers, pizza and the occasional steak. Until I made the mistake of a lifetime. In a fit of boredom from lack of cable after our latest move, I was surfing Netflix for a documentary to watch. I'm partial to ones about WWII (Ken Burns is a genius) or the environment or how public education is destroying the world, but I stumbled upon one called Vegucated. It was about three people who agreed, voluntarily, to adopted a vegan lifestyle for six whole weeks! That's crazy, right? I mean nobody except a crazy person would give up all meat and cheese for 42 days. Not to mention eggs! Wackos, all of 'em. I clicked play, and sat back so I could watch the insanity unfold.
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